Marauders Prompts
by HideTheDecay
Summary: Every week I have a new prompt and the result are short little glimpses into the lives of the Marauders. Chapters marked with a star include broken canon, so be warned.
1. Quidditch Pitch

If there was one thing that could be said for Sirius Black, it was that he did _not_ get jealous. Not of James, the all-star that could do no wrong, nor of Remus, who was the smartest person he knew, and mostly certainly not of his brother, newly appointed Quidditch Seeker or not. It'd been obvious in his reaction of raucous laughter in the Great Hall that he couldn't care less that his little brother had attained a higher position than he. He'd made it quite clear to everyone that was listening in that it wasn't talent that got his brother onto that team, but their mother's wallet. It was what she'd always wanted, after all.

He could remember the months leading up to his first year at Hogwarts and how he'd begged his mother to get him a broom, even if they weren't allowed for first year students. She'd quickly grown weary of him; enough to cave and get him what he wanted, but on her terms. It was always on her terms. She'd marched him outside with a brand new broom in her hand and explained to him that if he was to keep it, he was going to have to earn it. It wasn't meant for fun or enjoyment; it was a tool. He'd join the Slytherin Quidditch team and attain the valuable status and influence that came with such a position.

It was with resentment that he mounted one of the school brooms during his first flying class. The broom he'd been promised for his hard practice over the summer had been taken away and passed to his brother. It was his punishment for being placed in the inferior house of Gryffindor. The lesson might have renewed his interest, if James hadn't been there to display a talent that surpassed even Sirius' natural grace. The shadow that passed over from above as his best friend soared by was the final indicator that flying wasn't for him. He held no regret when he rejected James' offer to join him for the Quidditch tryouts two years later.

It hadn't taken much convincing to have James check the time sheet for the Quidditch field to see when the Slytherins had it booked for practice. They snuck down together, sniggering all the way, to spy and have a laugh at the sorry excuse for a team. In the shadow of the bleachers, Sirius watched as his brother hovered high up on a familiar broom, looking nervous as a practice ball was passed between his teammates. He stared in anticipation as the captain of the team settled his eyes on their newest member and drew his arm back to throw it to him. The cruel smile that split his features when his brother lost his grip and dropped the ball quickly pulled into a sharp scoff when he dove for it and caught it moments after.

Sirius Black did _not _get jealous.


	2. Whomping Willow

It was not a rare sight to see Remus Lupin surrounded by books. Whether using them to study for class or to escape from reality, he could always be counted to have at least one hand splitting the pages of a book. That was why it came as no surprise to James Potter or Sirius Black to see him sitting on the ground with a text on one thigh and a roll of parchment on the other. No doubt he was working on an assignment that they themselves were putting off with the justification that it was only the weekend and they'd have plenty of time before class rolled around. The young boys found it curious that he'd chosen to work outside as the library seemed like a much more suitable setting for a bookworm, who certainly seemed like he hadn't much sun in a couple of months despite the summer just behind them.

"C'mon," suggested James, changing course, "Bet I can convince him to let me copy his homework."

"He's so boring," complained Sirius, following reluctantly, "Just steal it from his bag later."

"He's not boring, he's just is uncultured in fun," replied James, whatever that meant, "Look, don't you think it's a smart idea to get on his good side? He's doing work on _Saturday_," he stressed this point, "Do you know how much easier it'll be to get through classes if we can ask him favors?"

Sirius glanced over to the sitting Gryffindor and gave half a shrug, "S'pose."

"Exactly."

It was decided as far as James was concerned. It wasn't a rare occurrence for him to take the lead like this, determining what their next adventure would be. Sirius just didn't really consider this much of an adventure. It wasn't that he didn't like Lupin and he'd certainly had never bothered him, but they had nothing in common and it was difficult to feel anything beyond indifference to him. He didn't bother to keep pace when James sped up and greeted the subject of their conversation.

Remus glanced up from his book, surprised to see his dorm mates standing above him. There was a brief pause, before he realized he probably ought to respond, "How can I help you?"

It was obvious he assumed they wanted something from him and he wasn't really far off the mark. James just gave a little innocent shrug, as if approaching him nothing new for them, "You looked bored, so we thought you might want to hang out with us."

"You want to hang out...with me?" he repeated, the surprise evident on his features.

"S'what I said, isn't it?"

To say that this was unexpected would be an understatement. Remus had been living with them for the last year, but there was a reason they hadn't clicked. The two trouble makers were loud and excitable where he was quiet and calm. Sure, he'd watched their blossoming friendship with jealousy, but he'd known better than to expect them to ever extend a hand to him. He couldn't help but feel that this might just be another one of their pranks that they were becoming well-known for, but it didn't mean he was eager to shut the door on what could be a genuine offer.

"Alright," he spoke slowly, shutting his book, "What are you guys doing?"

"Haven't really decided yet," shrugged James, "Just get your stuff together and let's go."

Remus couldn't help but notice that Black looked a little put off, but didn't say anything. He just did as he was told and packed his homework away in his bag. He stood up, dusted off the back his trousers, and slung the back over his shoulder. It felt awkward as they started off and he followed after them, unsure of where they were going or what they were going to do.

The first few minutes of their walk was marked by James and Sirius discussing possibilities now that there was three of them. Remus felt a little intimidated as they mentioned things like pranks that he certainly wanted no part of, but the idea of friendship kept him silent. He'd always had admired their confidence and surety and couldn't help the desire for them to like him just as much as they liked each other, even if it was too much to ask for. He didn't doubt that if he messed this up, they wouldn't talk to him for the rest of their time here at Hogwarts, dorm mates or not.

"I know!" James came to a sharp stop, his eyes fixed on a tree in the distance, "Let's play Poke the Willow."

"Brilliant idea," Sirius grinned, "Remember what happed to that idiot last year? Think he'd know how to dodge a branch." It was a game that had been banned after the first accident that had resulted in a lot of broken bones, but that didn't mean the students had given up the challenge. Only the bravest students attempted to touch the homicidal tree and so both boys could feel the obligation in completing the dangerous task.

Neither had noticed their tagalong's uncomfortable shifting.

"We're not supposed to."

James turned to look at him, "So what?"

"So let's do something else." He had no desire to confront that tree. He did it often enough that it'd turned into something he preferred to avoid looking at. He saw it as nothing more than a scar on the scenery. It was something that had been placed there just for him and he couldn't help but feel guilty every time a student was hurt from it, by their own stupidity or not.

"Don't be such a nancy," mocked Sirius, thinking him a coward, "The mean old tree isn't going to hurt you, Lupin."

"I'm not being a nancy," he tightened his grip on his bag, "Let's just do something else."

"Loosen up. You're not going to get in trouble."

"I don't want to."

"Oh, come on already," snapped Sirius impatiently, reaching out for him and grabbing his arm.

"I said no!" Remus jerked his arm away and took several steps back. He wasn't surprised to see both of them staring at him. The outburst and subsequent attention brought a warm flush to on his face: a mixture of anger and embarrassment. He muttered an excuse he could hardly remember as he turned and walked away.

James and Sirius exchanged a look.

"Never mind boring, he's a loon."

"Definitely a loon. Think he'll still let me copy?"


	3. Past Curfew

Peter Pettigrew was winded when he burst into the dorm, frantically seeking out his friends. He didn't really make a habit of running along the halls and up staircases of the castle and it showed in his flushed face. His lips parted to speak, a jumble of words on the tip of his tongue, but he was overcome with his panting. He held up a hand, gesturing at them to give him a moment, but as the seconds ticked by their questioning gazes grew impatient.

"For fuck's sake, Wormtail, spit it out."

Coming from James, the demand had the desired effect. Peter straightened up, took in a deep breath, and spoke, "You guys won't believe what just happened!"

"You finally touched a girl?"

"I-...what? No." he faltered, shaking his head in denial.

"You finally touched a boy?"

"Sirius, knock it off!" his visage brightened as he grew flustered and angry.

The ensuing laughter at his expense dampened his excitement to share what he'd discovered. He had the resentful thought to keep it to himself; the fantasy being that they might grow so curious that they'd come to him and beg to be told. The reality was he'd already lost their interest and he wasn't clever enough to drop a hint to recapture it without flat out telling them and he knew it.

He wanted their praise, damn it.

"I found a secret passage."

The effect was instantaneous and exactly what he'd imagined. They both straightened and he found himself subject to their rapt attention as they demanded he take them to it. There was no question of how he found it. They just wanted to know this new secret that he was dangling in front of them. For the first time, as they left Gryffindor tower, he wasn't trailing after them but leading them. This brief elevation of status gave him a sense of importance so potent that it like every pair of eyes they passed were fixed solely on him.

Which is why it was almost disappointing when they reached their destination and the focus shifted. He could see the skepticism in their expressions as he showed them a plain tapestry that spilled down the wall. It didn't look like much of anything until he stepped forward and pulled it aside to reveal a small alcove concealed behind it. The concave impression looked and felt solid and he was told so by his friends, so he showed them how he'd stepped inside and let the tapestry fall into place. It was pitch black and cramped, but the moment they turned around the stone wall had been replaced with a dim hall lit by everlasting torches.

Never mind the fact that he'd discovered the hall by falling flat onto his back in it and the only reason he'd been found it at all was because he'd been hiding from a group of Slytherins.

"You've really outdone yourself, Wormtail." James commended him, clapping his back.

He beamed, but Sirius was already changing the subject and pulling it away from him."This is the third one we've found," he started, dismissing individual credit, "There's got to be more. We should try to find them all."

"If we're going to do that maybe we should keep track of them, y'know, write them down and make a list."

Already they were moving on to the next thing, even if Peter would've preferred to bask in his accomplishment for a little longer. He wasn't willing to fall back to tagalong just yet, so he quickly spoke up, "What about a map?" The question was followed with a long pause, which had him worrying that they thought it was a shoddy idea, so he continued hurriedly, "I mean-...I didn't mean-...not like a map of all of Hogwarts, or anything-..."

"No, we should." James cut him off, "A map of the entire castle. We'll be the only ones that know the whole layout. It'll probably take all year to finish, but can you imagine it? "

"We'd have to sneak into the other houses to add them too," Sirius grinned, lighting up at the challenge.

"You really want to?" questioned Peter, stunned that they were taking his idea and running with it. It was the first time they'd ever taken one of his suggestions seriously. He couldn't help but wonder if and hope that discovering the passage they were standing in had altered their perception of him.

"Yeah, I bet we could even find a few charms to put on it to make it really useful."

"Seems like we have our next project."

"When are we going to do it?"

"When do we ever do anything?"

"After curfew."


	4. Great Hall

"Do these still work?" Sirius pondered to himself aloud, clutching a small bulging bag of flat black disks stamped with the name Zonko's. He'd been rifling through his trunk-a task that always proved to be an adventure in itself-and happened upon it. It'd been so long ago that he'd purchased them, that he'd forgotten about them amidst other pranks.

He fished out one of the disks and tossed it on the floor in the middle of the room. The incantation was on the tip of his tongue, but he had to peek at the back of the bag to refresh his memory. Without any flair, he drew out his wand, pointed it at the disk, and said the incantation.

The result was a sharp crack as the disk exploded and flew across the room in pieces.

Remus, who'd been immersed in writing out his schedule for the next week, startled and his head snapped up. It took him a second to realize he was pressing the tip of his quill firmly against the paper and was annoyed to see a black blotch of ink that had built in the middle of the week. Shaking his head, he set his quill to the side and lifted his gaze once more to look warily at the bag in his hand. "Isn't Prongs getting released soon?" he reminded him, trying to advert danger.

Sirius was grinning as he shoved the bag into his pocket and checked his watch, "Yeah, you should go fetch him for dinner."

"You're not coming with?"

"No time." Sirius replied and without any explanation, he hurried out of the dorm.

He blew through the Common Room, ignoring his peers in a way that made it clear he was on a mission. Everyone knew better than to interrupt, even though curious eyes watched his progress. Deeming that the stairs would take too long and that rushing down them would look suspicious, he slipped into one of the secret passageways, which was nothing more than a stone slide from the top floor of the castle to the bottom floor. That passage alone had given them so many alibis over the years.

When he arrived at the Great Hall there were glistening dishes set out for dinner but the room was empty. It was exactly as he'd hoped, but he knew it wouldn't remain that way for long. Without hesitation, he hurried over to the one end of the Slytherin table and plucked up the first plate he saw. He withdrew three disks from his pocket and used a sticking charm to attach two of them to the bottom. The third was placed on the base of the goblet of the unlucky student that would be sitting there. Down the line he moved, leaving no dish untouched but taking care to make sure that they didn't look tampered with.

He reached the other end of table and glanced at his wrist to find that he was cutting it close. The students would start trickling in at any moment. It wouldn't do to have half of the snakes spared, however, so he quickly started in on the other side. His work grew clumsy due to his rushing, but he did pause at the spot his brother normally sat. There was a moment of indecision before he added a couple of extra disks, figuring the twit deserved it, and continued along. It was down to the last few dishes when he heard the sound of footsteps out in the hall. A curse left his lips-far be it from him to ever understand timeliness. He just lifted the last of the plates and tossed a few disks under, not bothering to stick them. The effect wouldn't be as grand, but he barely had enough time to stuff the bag with what few disks he had left into his pocket.

It was probably suspicious to the first students walking in to see Sirius Black strolling through the Great Hall to the Gryffindor table, but no one questioned him. Having taken his seat, now all that was left to wait. It was several minutes before the flow of incoming students grew steady and even longer for his friends to walk through.

Ignoring the warning signs of grumpiness in his friend's expression, he grinned brightly at him as he sat down, "Good to see you, Prongsy. How are you feeling?"

James looked at him flatly, unamused by his enthusiasm, "What part of 'I took a bludger to the face' did you miss?"

It was a good point. "At least you can't tell your nose was smashed in," Sirius observed, tilting his head this way and that to get a thorough look.

James' lips thinned a little, the reminder unwelcome, "We'll get those snakes back."

As if on cue, the platters in front of them filled with food and the volume of chatter dipped as the students began to fill their plates. Sirius followed along, picking out what he'd like to eat in a bid to play innocent. A few minutes passed, ensuring that everyone at the Slytherin table had settled into their meal. He drew out his wand and used the cover of his forearm pressed against the table to subtly point it in their direction. He glanced over at James and gave him a nudge, suggesting he pay attention with a silent look.

Fixing his gaze on his victims, he smirked dangerously and muttered the spell under his breath. Instantly there was a chorus of loud snaps. While one disk alone was enough to startle, the couple hundred he used was deafening. Simultaneously, all the dishes in front of the Slytherin bucked up and rose several feet in the air, before tumbling back down so that food and drink went flying and coated everyone unfortunate enough to be sitting there. The thunderous clatter of dishes crashing back to the table and onto the floor filled the Hall until all that was left was a single plate rolling on its edges in a tight circle before settling on the ground.

There was a single moment of stunned silence that was broken by a loud laugh. Next to him, James was clutching the table as he gasped for breath. The sound was infectious and soon the entire Hall echoed with it. The sight of the stuck-up Slytherins covered in their dinner was incredible, Sirius decided, but not as much as the sight of James roaring with laughter.

It was the least he could do to make his best mate feel better.


	5. Mirrors

He knew what to expect when he walked through the door and it was no surprise to see it locked behind him, both physically and magically. The gesture was as metaphorical as it was literal and Sirius knew exactly how to interpret it. It was the same reason his mother held out her hand in demand every time he came home. The vulnerability he felt when she confiscated his wand was undoubtedly the effect intended. She wanted him to know

how much she missed him. The warmth of her embrace caused his eyes to close and he just savored her scent. It was so distinct to her-like vanilla, sugar, and warm bread. It smelled like she'd just spent all afternoon in a bakery. James knew that was exactly how his mother treated their kitchen. There was undoubtedly a plate of cookies laying picture perfect on the counter waiting for his consumption. Probably freshly made this afternoon

from her very own recipe. A concoction to purge him of his lies, she'd always say. His time at Hogwarts made him unclean and this was only way to wash him from the inside. The vial was taken gingerly because Sirius knew that resisting made her forceful. It was better to get it over with and that's what he told himself as he lifted it to his lips and swallowed the potion that made him sick. He barely wiped the vomit from his lips when she yanked him up a handful of hair

to show him that he needed a trim. Her warm smile shifted into playful and she ruffled his locks, complaining about how wild they had become. A hand batted hers away, but the grin on James' face betrayed the annoyance he tried to feign. As much as he protested and claimed otherwise, he enjoyed the lighthearted fuss she made over him. They both knew that no matter how old he became, she'd always be there to take care of him. She lifted her hand to

slap him across the cheek. He always had a smart comment on his tongue that he couldn't hold back. The feel of her nails cutting into his skin stung, but Sirius resisted the urge to glance over to the mirror to assess the damage. Their gazes met coldly, defiance against outrage. A finger thrust toward the doorway informed him that he was dismissed, but that meant nothing more than exile. He probably wouldn't be leaving his bedroom

at least until dinner. If he put it off long enough, the trunk might potentially unpack itself. It was easy to reason that summer wasn't really that long. That made it tempting to just leave it alone so he could take it back exactly as it was, but there were a couple of things he wanted from it. James knelt down in front of it and started to dig, but immediately regretted his decision. Everything inside just grew more jumbled. It took a while, but he finally grabbed

the mirror once he was alone. Whenever he found himself sitting here like this, the longing he felt was intense. The only thing it offered was his reflection and a simple call could easily change that. But Sirius knew what his friend would see and the blood running down his cheek stopped him. The shame he felt was not an easy admission and he told himself that his friend probably wasn't even around right now. He had other things to be thinking about

so the mirror just slid deeper into his trunk as James shut it.


	6. Regulus

It's a question that James didn't have to think about to produce a correct answer. It was more a matter of who he trusted enough to tell. There was only really one person, but considering that Sirius probably knew the answer just as well as he, he didn't imagine there was anything to be gained of reminding him. They were Sirius' weakest moments, after all. The moments he'd been unable to cope with the strain and fell from his pedestal. Of course he knew, James mused. He knew exactly how many times he'd seen Sirius Black cry.

The first time had been awkward. Even though they'd latched at the hip within their first week of school, he hadn't really known much about his friend beyond the fact that he was a fellow adventurer and troublemaker. Those two facts had been more than enough to satisfy the simplistic needs of such a young friendship. Sure, he'd found it a little odd that Sirius had received daily letters from his family, but he couldn't have imagined the reason for them and gone so far as to tease him that he was a mummy's boy. The way he snapped back had only convinced him that it was true.

An eleven year old, he hadn't been observant enough to notice the way Sirius never smiled when the familiar owl would swoop in. By second week of school, Sirius had already received more letters than all of the boys in their dorm combine. He never said anything about it, just took the letter and stowed it away to be read later. James just assumed that he was embarrassed. It wasn't exactly cool to receive letters from home with such frequency and he certainly would've gone out of his way to pretend it wasn't happening if it were him. Naive, he couldn't have imagined that the letters were so different from the ones he received from his own family.

Which is why it had been so jarring to find Sirius hunched over one of them one evening. It seemed he'd finally gotten around to reading that day's letter and the sound of his resulting sniffles filled the room. James had been tempted to turn around and pretend he hadn't seen anything, a favor he'd claim was solely for Sirius' benefit but was in reality just as much for his own. But before he could enact this gesture of generosity, the feel of his gaze must have alerted Sirius to his presence because his head lifted and he quickly started wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. Caught and feeling guilty for it, he saw no other choice that to tentatively move closer and for the first time he discovered that not all families were created equally.

As it turned out, they were the only thing that could work Sirius up that much. James quickly learned that the family that he'd gone out of his way to put behind him was the only thing that could pull him back. This rang true years later when James walked into the dorm to see Sirius sitting on the window sill. He was quiet, but there was something broken in his posture. His eyes were fixed into the distance, so lost in his thoughts that he didn't react to the sound of his approaching friend. In his fist was a wrinkle of parchment clutched so tightly that the stamp of the Black family crest was barely visible. A frown pulled at James' lips as he lifted his eyes to see the wet trail glistening down his cheek. He reached out and set his hand over the fist and felt it tighten beneath his palm.

This obviously wasn't like the letters of his childhood. The ones that had been sent to berate and belittle him. Those letters had faded with time to be replaced with Howlers and even those had dwindled in frequency. It didn't make sense for them to write him now. James knew he hadn't received a letter from them since he'd been disinherited. What reason could they possibly have to contact him now? The contents of that letter was hurting him and he wanted to know why. His fingers shifted, tugging at the parchment, and he knew that trust was the only thing that allowed Sirius' grip to relax enough for him to pull it away. He started to smooth it out, but it became unnecessary as Sirius' head turned and red-rimmed eyes met the question in his own.

"He's one of them."

He didn't have to clarify. James knew exactly what he meant because there was only one meaning that statement could ever have. Whatever was written in the letter was nothing in comparison whatever Sirius had to be thinking. In the past, James had become painfully aware that he didn't know what to say during these moments but he'd since learned that sometimes his silence was best. It didn't have to be awkward. There was nothing he could better offer than presence. He shifted to sit next to him on the window sill and joined him in looking out, as if there was some answer to be gained from their scrutiny. This wasn't the first time and it wasn't even the second, but each time he hoped that perhaps this was the last time he'd have to see Sirius Black cry.


	7. Infatuation

It was the third week and he was starting to get sick of it. Curious, of course, but it wasn't really amusing anymore. The way Sirius would walk in with a dazed look on his face and the way he'd fall back onto his bed with a sigh. There was a first time for everything, but Sirius was known to switch out girls faster than he switched out his socks. He was unaffected by broken hearts and desperate pleas and tears withdrew him further. It was the dream of many to capture and keep the attention of their friend -a task they'd once deemed impossible, but had recently been accomplished by some unknown girl that Sirius wouldn't talk about.

James lifted himself from his slouch on his bed when Sirius entered the room looking far too smitten for his own good. He waited for some form of acknowledgement, but scowled when he went ignored in favor of Sirius flopping onto his mattress and pulling his pillows under him as if to lengthen whatever happiness was lingering from his most recent encounter. It was the weekend and instead of hanging out with his friends, he'd disappeared for several hours with little warning. James had scoured the map for him in hopes of discovering his secret, but it became obvious after fifteen minutes of searching that wherever Sirius was it wasn't at Hogwarts.

"I'm not even this bad." James stated loudly, his eyes looking to Remus for confirmation. He frowned at the noncommittal shrug he received in return, ignoring the implied answer.

James knew that he was the only one taking it personally. Remus was content with his conclusion that Sirius would tell them eventually and Peter was more offended on James' behalf than his own. They knew not to expect anything from him, but they weren't James and that wasn't even close to being satisfactory for him. Glowering at his mate, he pushed himself up and grudgingly moved over to his bed. That at least earned himself a glance, but it annoyed him to see that it was not at all apologetic even in light of his glare.

"You won't even tell me her name," he said in frustration, obviously upset that this secret was being kept from him.

There was a pause as their gazes met, before Sirius rolled onto his back to face him, "I told you, you don't know her."

"S'not the point." James' voice was quieter and laced with a hint of insecurity that he'd never admit to if confronted on it.

It didn't go unnoticed by Sirius and it was obvious now was the time to offer a little give, "Will you relax if I tell you her name?"

"Maybe." No promises.

"It's Sophia."

James had wracked his brain for any girls he knew by that name, but Sirius had been telling the truth when he claimed that he didn't know her. Whoever she was, she wasn't a student. The name proved to be unsatisfactory and James didn't feel any better having learned it. It didn't change the way Sirius snuck off to be with her nor the way he came back grinning like an idiot. It was with growing resentment that James finally demanded to meet her, wanting to see for himself what was so great about this girl. He expected to meet resistance but was surprised when Sirius agreed easily, saying that she was finally ready.

That was how they'd wound up in Hogsmead the next weekend. It wasn't an official day so they used the tunnel they'd discovered years ago to sneak to the small village. James expected to meet her somewhere, the Three Broomsticks in all likelihood, so it was unexpected when Sirius told them to wait on the street while he went to fetch her. Minutes passed, accompanied by James' waning patience, before a loud rumbling was heard down the road. The furrow of his brows faded when they lifted in shock as Sirius reappeared on top of a monster of a machine.

"You're joking," James blurted out, wide eyes staring at the motorcycle he sat astride.

Sirius just grinned.

"Meet Sophia," he proclaimed proudly.


	8. Drunk

They usually knew better than to dip into a bottle by themselves because neither of them had the foresight to cut each other off. Between the four of them, a bottle of whiskey wasn't enough to have them sicking up the next morning, but that same bottle split into two was more than enough reason to skip morning classes. They knew better, sure, but that hadn't stopped Sirius from grabbing the bottle once the others were asleep. It wasn't that he minded sharing with them and hell, it was usually more fun when they were included, but with how...distracted James had been lately it wasn't as often that they got to spend time together alone.

They'd huddled together on James' bed with the curtains pulled around and the only source of light being their wands lit up and abandoned on the comforter. Their conversation was punctuated by a lot of snickering that grew more raucous as the contents of the bottle being passed between them slowly disappeared. Soon they were laughing at the very idea that they might wake their dorm mates when Sirius made a joke he regretted the moment it left his lips. He couldn't even recall exactly what he'd said upon later reflection-just something about how at least perfect Prefect Evans wasn't there to ruin their fun like usual. It was nothing more than a stupid comment selfishly made in reference to James' latest rejection just that afternoon. He'd never admit it, but maybe there was a little part of him that wanted to remind him.

The reaction which in all other cases would have been a push and a little curse as it rolled over James' shoulder gave way to one no amount of inebriation could ever permit Sirius to forget. In raw honesty that only alcohol could produce, James' expression fell and he spoke quietly, "Sirius, I love her."

Sirius' felt a weight settle on his chest because even though they both knew it to be true, it had never been spoken aloud. There was a beat of silence in which he swallowed back his own emotion before he reached out and set a supportive had on James' arm, "I know."

There was a long silence before James spoke, his voice angry and firm, "Fuck her."

If only he meant it, Sirius smiled to himself but the bitter undertones were lost on James. He wasn't paying attention, busy nodding in the silence. He touched Sirius and gripped his shoulder, "It's me 'n you, Padfoot."

Sirius couldn't bear to answer beyond a nod, "Think it's time to sleep, Prongs." The hand on James' arm turned to a grip as he urged his friend back. It seemed the mixture of the alcohol and his dampened mood kept James pliable because he settled back easily. He let James deal with his glasses himself while he took care of James' wand, extinguishing it and slipping it into the leather sheath tied around the post of his bed. He had began to draw back when his arm was caught and he found James peering up at him.

"G'night, Pads."

"Night, Prongsy."

Clutching his own wand, Sirius slipped out from between the curtains and made sure they were shut behind him. In the silence of the dorm, he could see his own bed which looked cold and undesirable in light of the words echoing in his ears. His friends never would understand why some mornings Sirius' bed was home to a large black dog curled up at the headboard. They found it amusing and claimed that he preferred his canine form to the human alternative. What they didn't know is what he'd long ago discovered-that this was the easiest way to lick wounds that would probably never show and probably never heal.


	9. Cake

It was always the same when the desserts came out—Remus would watch the way his friends haphazardly grabbed and dumped the confections into an abstract pile of frosting and sugar onto their plates. Despite a sweet tooth to rival even that of James, whose mother was known to bake and send goodies year round, Remus was never quite as eager to dig in. He still had his dessert, of course, but he never stuffed himself despite his capacity to polish off everything his friends ate and more.

He was well-known for his penchant for chocolate and his secret stash was coveted as much as it was cursed by the boys in his dorm. Sirius had sworn on his James' magical pocket knife that he'd find it by the time he graduated, but so far it seemed that James had little to worry about. Even the evening Sirius had spent in the dorm turning over Remus' stuff had proved fruitless. Little did Sirius know that he ought to be searching a bit closer to home.

For Remus, dessert at Hogwarts was simple—he would choose something like a biscuit or a tart. Despite the chocolate pastries piled in front of him, he never touched them. It was an oddity that his friends quickly learned to ignore. A ravenous lot of teenage boys, they were content to be distracted by their own consumption.

It wasn't that he wasn't interested in the desserts his friends always saved room to dig into—during his first few weeks at Hogwarts, he'd been amazed at the variety and eager to try everything just like every other student, but he quickly learned what he liked and what he didn't—really, he just wasn't favorable to the way they tasted. It wasn't that they were bad, but they certainly weren't right. They didn't taste like the cake his mother use to make him as a child so she could cut him slices whenever he was feeling down, or whenever he did something good, or just _whenever_.

Which is why after one summer, he came back to Hogwarts with a little note card packed away in his trunk. It was tucked into his favorite book so it wouldn't be lost amidst everything else stuffed inside. Scrawled across one side were words that he held close to him, so it was surprising that his intention was to share it with the entire school. It was personal, but he felt safe knowing that no one would know just what he was giving them.

Despite having already made the decision, it took a while for him to actually bring himself to make the trip. When he entered the kitchens, it was the first time he'd ever gone alone. He never felt right about making the elves do extra work on top of all their other tasks, so apart from when he was dragged by his friends he never went. The elves swarmed him immediately, eagerly greeting him and asking what he'd like them to make.

He shook his head and smiled kindly at them, going so far as to crouch to be closer to their level. Withdrawing the note card from his pocket, he glanced down at his mother's looping handwriting, "Can I teach you a recipe?"

The chorus of gasps would have probably made anybody else laugh, but after the initial shock and subsequent praise for his kindness that Remus insisted he didn't deserve , he just smiled as he found himself standing amidst a small army of elves eager for his instruction. He walked them through each line, pausing in between to give them time to run about and leaving out only the words written at the very bottom: _Love, Mum_. There was no amount of explaining that could duplicate that ingredient.

The cake that resulted was offered to him, but Remus shook his head and insisted that the elves try it. It was obvious they weren't comfortable doing so, so he explained that he wanted to see what they thought. It took some convincing, but eventually it was passed around and sampled by each elf. Satisfied, he tucked the card into his pocket and left the kitchens without another word.

That night, his friends were surprised to see Remus brush a finger against the chocolate cake that had appeared on the table. He licked the frosting off his finger with a thoughtful expression and grinned. They watched in amazement as he pulled the entire platter to him and jammed his fork directly into it. He lifted a giant chunk to his mouth and popped it in, chewing happily on a familiar flavor that finally seemed right. Exchanging looks, his friends all lifted their forks and leaned in to try the cake. He didn't mind sharing, but refused to give up the platter, already taking in a second forkful.

"Does something taste different to you?"

Remus just shrugged and continued to polish off the cake.


End file.
